


Crazy little thing called love

by ProdigyBlood



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is a soft boy, Drinking & Talking, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, but also AU, talking about kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 07:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProdigyBlood/pseuds/ProdigyBlood
Summary: Crowley kissed Aziraphale a total of four times before the apocawasn't but neither of them had ever mentioned it before.Until now.





	Crazy little thing called love

**Author's Note:**

> So, life has been crappy and I have been super blocked but I forced myself to sit down and write something. Whether it's any good is debatable* (*it's terrible) but hey, I did it. Nearly 2500 words after a couple of weeks of barely writing anything. so, _yay_?

Crowley kissed Aziraphale for the first time in Rome, 41 AD. 

They had both been rather drunk, and it was never mentioned again, so Crowley chose to believe his angel had forgotten. Even though he was curious, Crowley himself was too afraid to ever bring it up, even in jest. Over time it simply became a repressed memory that he would occasionally stew over when he was feeling particularly self-loathing. He even tried to pretend it hadn’t meant anything and, of course, failed miserably. 

Unfortunately for the Demons mental health, that first kiss wasn’t the last.

The next time they kissed was almost one hundred years later. The angel was flustered and yelling and Crowley thought he looked so damn cute. He didn’t mean to cup Aziraphale’s chubby face and cut him off mid yell, but he’d been overcome with the urge and it had been impossible to ignore.

Aziraphale had pulled away abruptly, something close to hurt in his eyes and had mumbled something inaudible before walking off.

It was never mentioned again. 

It happened again in 1601 after Aziraphale returned from Scotland as per their agreement. They were once again – very, _very_ – drunk but this time Aziraphale actually responded to the kiss. It was Crowley who broke away, afraid that if he didn’t then he never would.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something before seemingly deciding better. Instead, he returned to his wine and nothing more was said about it.

In 1793 Crowley nearly kissed Aziraphale after crepes but then he remembered the previous times he’d been weak enough to kiss his angel and how they’d never progressed further nor mentioned it again. He didn’t think his heart could take another blow. 

He’d wanted to kiss Aziraphale in 1967 in the car but then the angel had spoken those dreaded words ‘You go too fast for me’ and the spell had been broken.

In 1970 Crowley showed up at the bookshop incredibly drunk. When Aziraphale led him to his sofa to sleep it off – he was far too drunk to sober up – he’d fallen forward and pressed his lips firmly against the angels. Aziraphale hadn’t responded, but he hadn’t pushed him away either. Crowley had half a mind to tell him that he loved him but he slipped into unconsciousness before he could. At least, that’s how he remembered it. Aziraphale remembered differently… 

There were no more kisses between then and the apocawasn’t. Crowley felt as if he’d learned his lesson; Aziraphale didn’t and would never love him that way and he was just setting himself up for heartbreak. Not that the past six thousand years _hadn’t _been heartbreaking. The least Crowley could do was not make it harder for himself. 

Of course, then the apocalypse didn’t happen and Aziraphale didn’t run away with him but even so Crowley knew something had changed between them. The whole business with exchanging bodies had been pretty intimate. The fact that they’d both trusted each other enough to risk their lives – what if they’d been wrong?! If Hell had used anything other than Holy water then Aziraphale would have been dead. Gone forever. Crowley couldn’t have handled that. 

And then dinner at the Ritz had happened and Crowley had practically been brimming with love. He was pretty sure Aziraphale was feeling something, too. Maybe his angel _had_ finally caught up? 

Back at the bookshop they cracked open a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape and continued drinking. They were celebrating after all. They were alive, Heaven and Hell would leave them alone for at least a little while and the world hadn’t ended. Crowley was planning to get quite spectacularly drunk in celebration. He was going to get drunk and he was _not _going to kiss Aziraphale. 

Except – he really, _really_ wanted to. 

“Are you quite alright, my dear?” Apparently, the conflicting thoughts between desire and sense were written across his face. 

“Of course, angel,” he said smoothly. It wasn’t a total lie after all. Crowley was quite content with his life right now asides from the fact that he wanted to pull Aziraphale against him and never let him go. 

Affection of all sorts was not the done thing for angels and demons. Sure, they could kiss and even go further if they made the effort but most didn’t want to. At least, on the demons part not for love. Lust was fair game, and many of his kind enjoyed toying with the humans in such ways. Generally, angel’s quite considered sex as sullying their celestial body. Crowley wasn’t quite sure where Aziraphale stood on the matter. It certainly wasn’t as if they’d ever discussed the matter. 

It wasn’t even about sex, though Crowley certainly wouldn’t turn it down. Aziraphale made him soppy. He just wanted to hold angel’s hand. Run his fingers through those white-gold curls. Plant a kiss on the tip of his nose. 

He wanted to say three little words that made his tongue burn. They were words a demon shouldn’t say. Words any other demons wouldn’t _want_ to say. Crowley had never been like any of his fallen kin though. As far as Crowley could see, judging from his observations on Aziraphale, he had only fallen because he had made this mistake of _asking_ rather than just _doing_.

Aziraphale broke rule after rule. He had lied to God. And yet, he was still an angel. It just made Crowley love him all the more.

Aziraphale hesitated. Crowley watched his face, familiar with the internal battle and quite patient enough to wait until Aziraphale was ready to say whatever it was bothering him. He had a lot of practice with patience after all. He was probably the most patient demon to ever exist. 

Aziraphale took another sip of wine, dithered and then placed his glass down on a coaster (Crowley himself was using a theatre programme much to the angel's chagrin. At least he wasn’t putting his glass straight onto the wooden table, the demon had argued). 

“Crowley, my dear,” he said resolutely. “I think we’re rather overdue a conversation.” 

Oh crap. Crowley didn’t know what to expect but he wasn’t sure he was going to like it. He knew from human tv shows that conversations that started like this usually ended in a breakup. Aziraphale couldn’t break up with him if they weren’t actually together, could he? 

“Uh. What about?”

“I think you know what about.” 

Double crap. Crowley really didn’t like this. He took a deep gulp of wine. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Aziraphale gave him a look and Crowley felt his stomach drop. There would be no escaping this. He just hoped it wouldn’t go as badly as he imagined. 

“Go on then,” Crowley said glumly, waving his hand in a ‘go-ahead’ motion. 

“Well.” Aziraphale clasped together his well-manicured hands and placed them in his lap. “I was rather hoping we could discuss the kissing.” 

Oh, Go-Sa-_Somebody_! This was even worse than Crowley could have imagined. He’d always thought Aziraphale had forgotten about those little incidents or, at the very least, had filed them under ‘things to never _ever _bring up’. 

“K-kissing?” he stuttered. 

“Yes. See, I believed you were simply trying to tempt me, what with you being a demon. I assumed it was a little game you were playing. It was a little hurtful, my dear, but I tried to let it slide.” As Crowley opened his mouth to protest, Aziraphale unfolded his hands and held one up, effectively silencing him. “I now believe I was quite mistaken.” Crowley nodded frantically here. As much as he feared being rejected, he wanted Aziraphale to think him a good person more. “I think I started to realised back in 1967. Do you remember?” 

“You gave me the Holy water,” Crowley said, his voice little more than a whisper. He was clutching his empty wine glass tightly, half wondering whether to miracle it full again. Perhaps it would be better to give up on it altogether and just drink straight from the bottle. 

_You go too fast for me, Crowley._

Those words still haunted the demon. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed. “I felt it then. More strongly than I ever had before.” 

“Felt what?” Crowley croaked. There was something blocking his throat and the words had to squeeze past its edges to get out. 

“The same feeling I’ve always felt around you. Only, it took me until that moment to decipher it, mostly, I think because I didn’t believe a demon could feel it.” At Crowley’s blank look, Aziraphale added: “_Love, _my dear. I felt love. More precisely, _your _love. For me.” 

“Oh.” Crowley was considering giving up on the wine entirely and just turning into a snake. Life was easier as a snake. He didn’t know why he’d come to favour his human form, it had been a stupid decision. 

Yes. Being a snake right now would be perfect. What a marvellous idea, what – 

“-Of course, I still wasn’t _certain._” Aziraphale continued. “Not until, ah, I believe it was three years later? You showed up quite drunk out of your mind and told me outright.”

“I did?” That had definitely come out as a squeak. Whatever was blocking his throat would be easier to deal with as a snake… 

“I did rather think you had forgotten,” Aziraphale said. “Beside’s, the whole thing terrified me at that point. I was quite happy for you to have forgotten.” Crowley wasn’t sure when the bottle of wine had appeared in his hand but he rolled with it, taking a deep swig. “It had been hard enough being in love with you without knowing you loved me back.”

Crowley spat out his wine. It showered across the sofa and both their clothes. Without missing a beat, Aziraphale miracled it away. 

“You – ” Crowley wiped at his chin as he felt some escaped wine slip down it. “You love me?”

“Very much so,” Aziraphale said with a nod. “I would say for rather a while but I think we both know that isn’t true all things considered.” 

“You… uh… I…” Where was his cool? Had he ever even had any? Crowley had once thought so but lately… not so much. “But – ” 

“I was scared, my dear,” Aziraphale said when it became clear Crowley wasn’t going to form a coherent sentence. “I’m an angel and you’re… well, a demon. We should be hereditary enemies, not star crossed lovers.” 

Crowley snorted at that. “_Star crossed lovers?! _Angel, we’re not Romeo and fucking Juliet!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realised how much better he suddenly felt. And – big props to himself – he’d just strung together a full and coherent sentence! 

“Well, I know that,” Aziraphale said indignantly. “But, well… You can see there are similarities at least?” 

“Our ‘_families’_ are enemies, I’ll give you that.” Crowley laughed again and rolled his eyes. He suddenly felt so much lighter as if his feelings had been crushing down upon him for six thousand years and suddenly Aziraphale was there, offering to share the burden. He felt his cool return. “So, you love me, huh? Since when?”

The angel flushed a little. “Well, I suppose 1941.” 

Crowley smirked as he recalled. “Ah. Let me guess… The books?” 

“Well… yes.”

“I should have guessed books would be the way into your heart. Good job we’re immortal else I’d die thinking of all the wasted opportunity.”

“Please don’t. I imagine getting discorporated these days will be much worse than just filling out some paperwork.” 

It was funny how naturally this conversation was happening now that they knew they were on the same page. They were talking about being in love as if they were talking about fine wine and theatre. It was very _them, _Crowley supposed. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“And for you?” Aziraphale asked after a moments silence. Before Crowley could ask what he meant, the angel was talking again. “I can guess, of course, but I would much rather hear it from you.” 

Ah. 

“It was the sword. You didn’t _ask_, you just… gave it away. And then you lied to God about it!” 

“Well, I didn’t _lie,_” Aziraphale said.

“Yes, you did! You _lied_!” 

“Only a little – !” 

“That was it for me. I was done for. Forever smitten. I can’t believe you didn’t realise. And I can’t believe I just used the word _smitten!_” He shuddered. 

“Can you blame me?” Aziraphale asked. “You’re a demon, Crowley. I didn’t know demons could feel love.” 

“You can literally sense love, angel!” Crowley was smiling as he said it. He wasn’t sure he would ever stop smiling. His angel loved him back. He was going to smile until his jaw hurt. He was going to smile until it fell off! 

“Your love feels different. I’ve felt it since the Garden so I just assumed…” Aziraphale trailed off, not finishing his sentence. 

“And you really just thought I was going around kissing you as part of my demonic duties?” Okay, that part still stung. Even if it did make sense. 

“Well… yes. And for that I am terribly sorry but – ” 

“Shut up, angel,” Crowley cut him off. Aziraphale looked aghast right up until a wicked smirk spread across the demon’s face. “I won’t deny that I’ve wanted to tempt you for a very long time. I just wasn’t doing it for work.” 

Neither could pinpoint when they had moved closer to one another, but suddenly they were almost nose to nose.

“Perhaps you could give it another shot now that we are, uh, what’s the expression? On the same page.” 

“Perhaps I could,” Crowley said but he didn’t close the gap. There was a part of him terrified that this was some cruel trick. Not by Aziraphale – his angel would never do that – but perhaps he’d been caught by Hell without realising and was trapped in some kind of illusion? What if none of this was real? What if he was just dreaming? Fuck, he couldn’t deal with that! 

As if able to read his mind, Aziraphale reached out and placed his palm against Crowley’s cheek. His hand was warm and soft and so very real. Crowley leaned into it. 

“My love,” Aziraphale said and then, for the first time since they’d known each other, Aziraphale closed the gap between them and kissed Crowley.

Well, there went his no kissing Aziraphale rule. Since the angel had technically kissed him first though, Crowley didn’t think it counted. He was definitely very okay with Aziraphale breaking the no kiss rule. In fact, he hoped Aziraphale would never stop kissing him. And it wasn’t as if they needed to breathe, after all...


End file.
